Unquenchable Flame
by lizzytish224
Summary: All that Daenerys has worked for is taken away in an instant; even her dragons have left her. Brutal men in service to the Lord of Light take Jorah and Dany across the sea to serve an unknown purpose. Meanwhile, a red woman has obtained who she believes is the real chosen one; Jon Snow. And she has a plan for him. Please be warned there will be mention of rape and violence
1. Chapter 1

It was freezing although the earth was hot. Fires raged all around her, threatening to destroy everything she knew, but still the cold seeped into her skin and coursed through her veins. Daenerys Targaryen had tried to build an empire, and she was watching its foundation turn to ash.

She looked to the sky from where she knelt and saw her dragons circling the burning city that had been Meereen. They had turned on her. She was their mother and yet they laid siege to her home. Slowly, they began to fly toward the east, making their way to a distant mountain of sand. When they flew lower, Dany saw their purpose. A woman in red stood atop the mountain. She could not make out her face, but her stance suggested strength and danger. Dany watched as her dragons landed beside the figure and her vision blurred with tears.

A scream drew her attention in another direction. She saw everything happening in slow motion. A pillar above Missandei buckled and fell, trapping her beneath it. Struggling to her feet, Dany sprinted toward the girl. Falling to her knees beside Missandei, Dany placed a hand on her chest. It lay motionless without the rise and fall of breath to shift it.

Dany swung her head around wildly, searching for movement, for life. But they all lay dead: Ser Barristan, Grey Worm, Daario, Missandei. None moved. Where was Jorah? She needed to find Jorah. She ran, faster and faster, unable to stop the tears from flowing. She felt like a little girl again, trapped in the grip of her brother, helpless and worthless.

She ran for what felt like hours but still could not see the man for whom she searched until a faint sound caught her attention. Sprinting toward it, Dany stopped in her tracks. The groan she had heard came from Jorah, on his knees with a sword to his throat. Her eyes moved up the sword to the face of the man who wielded it. He smiled.

"The Lord of Light bids you surrender. Unless you want to lose another friend."

Dany looked back at Jorah.

"Don't Khaleesi." He begged, "Leave me."

"Surrender?" She answered, "I have nothing left with which to fight. You have won."

Four men stepped out from behind scorched structures and marched toward her. They bound her hands and Jorah's and led them from the burning city.

* * *

Dany didn't know how long they marched. It seemed like a year but the sun barely moved. Jorah was bleeding from a wound on his arm and his pace slowed every minute.

"Stop!" she demanded, "Ser Jorah needs to rest."

A sudden fist shocked her into silence, colliding with her cheek and snapping her head back, but she refused to fall to the ground. Jorah lept at the man who hit her with all the strength he had left, but the man easily dodged his assault.

He smiled down at Dany. "You don't give the orders anymore, little Targaryen whore. Best keep your pretty mouth shut."

She did not speak again. Her only concern was for Jorah.

When it seemed like he could go no farther, the men called a halt. "We're a day out from the shore," one said, "We camp here for the night and carry on at first light."

Jorah collapsed and Dany knelt beside him, one bound hand on his back. "You're going to be okay" she whispered, "You have to be"

He smiled, "Then I will."

The night was colder than usual and Dany longed for a fire. Shivers wracked her body and no amount of exhaustion would allow her to sleep. Jorah whispered for her. "Khaleesi, you must get some rest. They will not stop after this. Please."

"Jorah, I cannot. The cold goes right through me."

"Please," Jorah called out again, this time to their captors, "She needs a fire or a blanket, something to keep her warm."

One of the men got up and the others followed him over to where Dany and Jorah lay.

"Cold, eh?" the first man asked. "What should we do about that then?"

"Maybe her clothes are wet," suggested the second man.

"Ay," said the third, "that tends to be a problem in the desert."

The first man laughed. "Well let's get them off then, shall we?"

He grabbed Dany by her hair and pulled her off the ground, ripping at her shirt as he did so. The other two men restrained Jorah as, piece by piece, the first man pulled her clothing off. When he was done, he threw her, naked and shivering to the ground.

"Sleep tight, your highness," he called and left her exposed and broken.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was still dark when Dany woke.

"Stay where you are!" she heard Ser Jorah shout.

"Or you'll do what, exactly?" Came the snide response.

As her vision adjusted Dany could make out the shape of Jorah standing above her. His stance suggested that he was ready for a fight. A few feet beyond him were their three captors, each one inching forward slowly.

Jorah's hands were still bound and he had no weapon, but he made a menacing sight just the same.

"Get out of our way, exile!" Shouted the closest man, "You have no chance and no reason to get hurt. Just let us have her. She may even like it." He smiled, staring at Dany's naked form as she struggled to her feet.

She moved to place herself between Jorah and the men, but he stopped her.

"Khaleesi, no." Jorah pleaded.

She looked at him and even in the darkness she could see the emotions seeping from his eyes. There was anger and hurt balanced with sadness and love. He loved her. But this, she already knew, just as she knew she could never love him back.

She shook her head and whispered in his ear, "Nothing they do to me can break me. I am the last Targaryen and my strength is all I have left. You have sacrificed everything for me, it's time I stand up for myself. You've done more than enough, Ser."

"Listen to the whore," yelled the second man, "she's not worth dying for."

"No," answered Jorah, "she's worth more than that." With a bound hand, he gently pushed her down onto the sand and turned toward the men. Somehow finding his strength, Jorah bolted and tackled the first to the ground. But the others were on him quicker than he could rise. Pulling him off of their leader, they took turns kicking him into submission.

The first men rose and smiled down. "That was stupid." He stated, simply. He raised his sword above Jorah's head and prepared to swing it down.

Before Dany could rise or cry out, another voice, this one calm and feminine, broke through the darkness. "Enough." It commanded.

All five of them turned their heads toward the sound, but none could see its source. "Who's there," called one of the captors, but his voice was drowned out by the scream of the first. Dany's eyes widened as she watched the man's sword turn red and heard the flesh of his hand sizzle. He threw the steel to the ground and stumbled backward, falling on his back.

"I said, enough," repeated the voice. If she squinted, Dany could see the figure of woman, all in red coming towards them. There were three smaller shapes perched upon her shoulders: dragons.

"Milady," said the first man, still on his back, "I'm sorry, I didn't see you."

The other two men sank to their knees. The woman, now close enough the make out, smiled. "It doesn't matter if I am here or not, you have orders to carry out and they do not involve your selfish gains. Give the girl her clothing back and finish what you started. I expect your journey to be over sooner rather than later."

The men all nodded and mumbled their agreements and apologies.

"Good," said the woman, turning to leave.

"Stop!" called out Dany before she could help herself.

The woman turned around slowly, her red hair billowing in a sudden wind. Dany wrapped her arms around herself to stop her shivering, but her voice remained strong. "How did you steal my dragons from me?"

The woman laughed. It was a beautiful sound, but somehow terrible at the same time. "Please child, I serve the Lord of Light, and fire is his purest servant."

And then she was gone as quickly as she arrived.

Disgruntled, the men threw Dany's clothing at her and walked back to where they had been sleeping earlier. Dany ran to Jorah and helped him rise. "Are you hurt?" she asked.

"No, Khaleesi. Thank you. Can you do something for me though?"

"Of course, anything."

"Please, don't ever try to stop me from protecting you again. It is a waste of time."

She smiled and he grinned back. "Put those clothes of yours on and get some sleep. We have much to do."

So she did.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day was a blur of sweat, thirst and endless walking. The men were merciless, kicking and spitting at Dany and Jorah whenever one of them lagged behind, but neither allowed their resolve to falter. They were unable to communicate with one another, but constant glances between them sufficed. Dany knew Jorah would do everything in his power to make sure she survived this, and she would return the favor tenfold.

By sunset the dry desert air was beginning to moisten and the smell of salt was growing strong.

"The sea," Dany whispered.

"Aye," growled the leader, "we're close. Keep moving."

Soon the blue expanse of water stretched out before the group, its vastness overwhelming. The sounds of waves crashing against the shore worked to soothe Daenerys' troubled mind and the cool breeze that lifted itself from the water made her smile.

The men led them to a rowboat just on the edge of the water. "Get in," one commanded.

Dany and Jorah climbed over the side and sat in the center of the boat. Two of the men followed as the third pushed them out to sea, jumping in last. As they rowed farther and farther out, Dany began to see the outline of small ship in the distance. Her sails were red and her wood as black as the night. She was beautiful and terrible, much like the woman from last night.

When they reached her, two of the men climbed up a rope to the deck and hoisted to others up behind them. The deck was hard and unforgiving, as was the crew waiting there for them. By Dany's count, thirteen men ranging from their early twenties all the way to wrinkled and gray stood in a line in front of her. One smiled at her, but it was not a kind smile.

She looked at Jorah but his attention was not on her. His stance was rigid and his mouth was set in a hard, menacing line. He glanced at each of the crew, one by one, his eyes resting on the man who smiled at Dany. Jorah inched closer to her.

"We're back!" shouted the leader of their captors, "and we brought friends." He laughed and all the men laughed with him. "This is _Ser_ Jorah Mormont. We've decided to take him back to his home. And the whore is the one who's been giving the free cities so much trouble. Daenerys Targaryen, the _Queen_ of the Seven Kingdoms, in the flesh."

"Let's see what she really looks like in the flesh!" Exclaimed one of the younger crew members.

"Easy boys," answered the leader, "the red woman says the whore's off limits. Let's not make the crazy bitch angry."

"Aye, captain, I learned my lesson about that already."

Dany's shoulders relaxed slightly, but Jorah didn't budge. She wasn't sure that he was even breathing.

"Take them down," the captain commanded, and his crew oblidged. They grabbed their two captives and hustled them down a ladder through a hole in the floor. Roughly, they shoved Jorah into the cell with iron bars and locked the door behind him. They threw Dany into the cell across the hall and made their way back up to the deck. There were no beds or windows, just a pail that Dany supposed was a privy and a small stool in each cell.

Both were quiet for a while until Dany broke the silence. "Jorah?" she called. She watched as he shifted to a sitting position on the floor.

"Yes, Khaleesi. Are you alright?"

She avoided his question, "Who is the Lord of Light?"

Jorah sighed, "He is the god, R'hllor, prominent in Essos. I think the woman who laid siege to us, who stole your dragons, is one of his priests-"

"The red priests," Dany cut him off, "I remember. The followers of R'hllor believe in two gods; two gods who are eternally at war."

"Yes. R'hllor and another whose name is unknown to me. R'hllor is the Lord of Light, of flame and life. The other is a god of death. In place of fire and light, this god has darkness and ice."

"But why should a priest of R'hllor want to be my undoing?" asked Dany. "I have done nothing to her or to her faith."

"No." Said Jorah, "You have not." And he would say no more.

* * *

Dany laid down on the cold, hard floor, and closed her eyes. The ship was moving now, she could feel it rise and fall with the waves. In the silence and the solitude, she had no choice but to allow the loss she had just suffered to come rushing in. Missandei and Ser Barristan. Grey Worm and Daario. All of her unsullied and all that was left of her Khalasar: Gone. Eaten up by flame and hatred. She had failed them. But not just them, Drogo, she had failed him too, and her unborn son. She had failed her father and her brothers, had caused the death of her mother. She began to see it now. She was not the savior that Westeros needed, she was its doom. Everything she touched turned to dust. Everyone she loved met their deaths. She was the personification of grief.

She could not stop the tears or the sobs that shook her frame. She curled onto her side and let the hurt wash over her. She cried until she could not breathe or see. She cried until she could not feel. She cried for all those she had betrayed and all those who had betrayed her. She cried for the love she wished she could show Ser Jorah and for the love he gave her that was so undeserved. She cried until she could cry no more. And then she was silent. That was the last time, she told herself, that Daenerys Targaryen would shed a tear in sadness.

Jorah was silent too, although she knew he had heard her. He was not asleep and she knew why. What kind of man can sleep with his death on the horizon? She feared for him and she feared for herself. But she could think of no way to escape.

As sleep continued to evade her, the night grew darker and the movement on deck diminished. Just when she thought the silent blackness would swallow her up, she heard footsteps on the ladder. They were heavy and laden with purpose. They made their way down the hall to her cell and stopped. She looked up and saw the smiling man staring down at her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys. Thanks to everyone for reading my story; I hope you all enjoy it! And to the two or three of you who have reviewed, I appreciate it. I'd like some more of you to review though just so I know what you all think.**

**This chapter contains the rape that I warned about in the description so please, if it is likely to bother you, just skip it. It's not my intention to make anyone upset. With that said, read on.**

* * *

Producing a key from his sleeve, he unlocked the cell door and let himself in.

Dany backed as far into the corner as she could, but he just kept moving forward. His smile was the same as it was when she saw him on the deck earlier that day, cold and unkind.

"Don't make a peep," he said. "If you be nice to me, I'll be nice to you."

The only sounds that Dany heard were her own heartbeat and Jorah's soft snoring. She closed her eyes and calmed down her breathing. She knew if she made a niose she would awake Jorah and he, in turn would try to make enough noise to wake the captain. Obviously this man was not supposed to be here so killing Jorah to keep him quiet would not be out of the question. He had protected her from so much, she couldn't do anything to put him in danger. So Dany bit her lip, and held her tongue.

The man knelt in front of her and moved his hands to her chest. Dany instinctively blocked his attempts. He grabbed her wrist and tried to jerk her arm out of the way, but she lashed out a struck him in the face, digging her nails into his skin and ripping at his cheek. He reeled back and came forward, his fist connecting solidly with her mouth.

Still afraid to utter a sound Dany bit back a cry of pain as she felt blood seep down her chin. Her eyes met his, defiant and strong. But the look in his made her hesitate. He was violent, this man. She could see it now. She began to fear for her life.

He attempted again to get at her chest and she blocked him again, but this time, he was ready for it. He caught her wrist in his hand and jerked her to her feet. Spinning her around, he smacked her forehead against the hard wall of the cell and pushed himself flush against her back.

She could feel his hardness beneath his pants and she began to shake. But she refused to shed a tear. When Daenerys says she won't cry again, she won't. Her ferocious struggles continued to give him problems so he hit her head over and over again into the wall until her vision began to blur.

When he was sure she would put up less of a fight he let go and she fell to the floor. Rolling her onto her back, he climbed on top of her and ripped her top off in one, solid movement. Next were her pants. Those took two tries, but they came off just the same. He undid his own breeches and positioned himself over her.

Her head began to clear and she started thrashing wildly beneath him. He hit her on the cheek with the back of his hand and pressed his forearm into her throat, cutting off her oxygen. When her movements calmed, he let up the pressure and, without warning, forced himself into her.

The resolve it took to keep silent during such a vehement assault was almost more than Dany could handle. But she did. He continued to thrust and she continued to bite her tongue. The blood from her forehead trickled into her hair and when she looked to her left, she could see the silver locks spread out across the floor turning red.

He was on top of her for what seemed like hours and she just kept staring at the red mixing with silver. Finally, his thrusts became more violent and more earnest and his grunts were louder than a whisper. Pulling out of her, he sprayed his seed on the ground and got to his feet. He pulled his breeches up, smiled that smile at her, and let himself out of the cell.

* * *

She didn't know how long she laid there, listening to the soft snores of Ser Jorah. But when she finally began to move, the crew could be heard on the deck above her and she knew that the sun was shining, although she could not see it. Gathering what strength she had, Dany pulled her torn clothing back on, best she could, and lifted herself onto the stool. To the left of the bucket she saw a small tin of water that she hadn't noticed before. She drank a sip and then dipped her sleeve in the rest.

She carefully wiped as much blood from her lip and forehead as she could and brushed the crusted red out of her hair with her fingers. She could feel a bruise forming on her cheek and a lump had begun to grow on her head. Her lip was split and swollen and her neck felt sore where _he_ had dug his forearm into it. But she was still alive. And she was not broken.

She massaged her neck and shoulders until she could move her head properly and then she sat in silence.

Jorah's snores began to cease and she could hear him moving. She sat with her back against the wall, facing his cell, watching as he stretched his long limbs and shook the sleep from his body.

He glanced in her direction and stopped moving. Dany didn't know what she looked like, but judging from his expression, she could've done a better job cleaning up.

"Khaleesi," he breathed, "Daenerys." He rose to his feet and walked as close to her as the bars would permit. "No." was his simple statement, and again, louder, "no!"

Dany tried to respond, but found a hard time finding her voice. "I'm fine," was all she could croak out.

Jorah strained his whole body towards her, as though if he leaned hard enough he could wrap her in his arms. "Tell me what happened, Daenerys. Tell me what they did to you."

Before she could answer, the sound of footsteps walking down the ladder came to their ears, and four men stood before them.

"It's time to do some work," one of them stated, and they unlocked the cells and led Dany and Jorah out onto the deck.


End file.
